


do what you do, say what you say

by theviolonist



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theviolonist/pseuds/theviolonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Brendan, you're disgusting, I'm not even sure you're a person. We should have sex."</p>
            </blockquote>





	do what you do, say what you say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [portions_forfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/portions_forfox/gifts).



"Hi," Brendan says in the elevator on monday morning.

Mindy is having a Bad Day ™. It's been three weeks since Casey left for Haïti and it's getting lamer everyday. Lack of sex is _not_ great for your skin, no matter what the abstinence counselor at Mindy's high school used to say (and Casey, but that's only because he's trying to convince himself). 

"You're gross," she tells him, and then it's her floor.

Her mojo definitely improves after that, mostly thanks to the slightly baffled expression she saw on Brendan's face before she walked off. 

*

The thing is, Mindy sort of can't stop thinking about that failed one-night stand they had way back when. Not that it was _enjoyable_ or anything (please, it's Brendan DesLaurier we're talking about here), it's just that - well. Let's say it's a typical case of the itch that wasn't scratched. She didn't sleep with him, she's a curious person, and yeah, that's pretty much it. 

(Casey has been trying to get her to be a better person, but 'curiosity' is wayyy down the list of things Mindy has to improve about herself. So it doesn't matter. It's, like, on hold. Self-improvement totally works like that.)

But back to the matter on hand, Mindy can't keep daydreaming about Brendan's fingers on her belly and his palm on her breast at work. It's highly unprofessional and also she can't do her underwear laundry fast enough to keep up. This has to stop. 

Which leads to:

"Brendan, you're disgusting, I'm not even sure you're a person. We should have sex."

*

She's not being unfaithful. She is _not_. She is engaging in sexual congress with a disgusting scoundrel in order to appease her curiosity and permanent horniness, which is totally different. Her heart belongs to Casey. And God. Maybe not God. Point is, she's not being unfaithful because a) what Casey doesn't know can't hurt him and b) he won't know, because Mindy will not tell him, and she'll gouge Brendan's eyes out before he does.

So everything is perfectly fine.

Sure, she's at the midwives, a plant is tickling the underside of her arm and Brendan is looking at her like she just told him that unicorns actually exist, but other than that, it's a foolproof plan. 

"We should what now?" 

Mindy is very, very proud of herself. Ha. Not so eternally unfazed now, huh? Unfortunately, Brendan regains his composure quickly enough.

"I mean, sure," he says with that crooked grin that Mindy hates and totally wants to (kiss) cut out his face with scissors. "Where and when?"

Mindy tells him. They stand there awkwardly for a second, then Mindy drops her hand in the weird fountain thing, steals a stone, and runs off. Take that, motherfucker.

*

They have sex. 

It's dreadful. 

Okay, no, it's totally not dreadful. More like world-rockingly awesome. Which is the problem, really. The whole idea here was to find out that Brendan has a small dick, take a sneaky picture and send it to all his clients plus the whole office. Now all Mindy's left with is his average-sized dick and troubling ability to make her orgasm several times in a row. 

"That was fun," says Brendan, taking a slurping gulp of his filtered, fat-free whatever water. 

Mindy hides her head under the pillow. "Ugh," she says eloquently. Maybe she could just smother herself. Maybe that's the answer to all her problems. 

Of course, that's when Brendan sneaks his hand back under the covers, and yeah, the smothering is going to have to wait.

*

Three things happen in the immediate wake of that deplorable incident: first, Mindy tries to do the human equivalent of sticking her head in the sand, which doesn't work because Mindy's life is the Murphy law in action always, and also because it turns out the itch needs to be scratched some more before Mindy can stop having embarassing daydreams. 

Second, she breaks up with Casey. Over the phone, yes, which is totally not-classy, as Danny doesn't fail to remark to her with a pointed glance and a rise of his ridiculous eyebrows. (And to say he still pretends not to meddle with her life. At least the others have the decency to accept that they live vicariously through Mindy's awesomeness.) It's not like Mindy had any other choice, anyway. She wasn't going to _cross an ocean_ to tell her boyfriend she was breaking up with him and then spend an awkward night in a tent filled with mosquitoes, no thank you. 

Casey... isn't thrilled, but he's gracious, which is great. Mindy feels guilty for about a week, in consequence of which she vows not to eat chocolate for a month in grief, a vow she only breaks twice in very forgivable circumstances, because – 

– third, she doesn't stop fucking Brendan.

*

It's not a conscious thing. 

She doesn't wake up one morning and decide she's going to become Brendan DesLaurier's freaking fuckbuddy. It's more like, one night she's alone eating spaghetti without cheese because she forgot to buy some on her way home, she calls him, Duncan's out of town, one thing leads to another and next thing she knows she's sprawled on his organic linen sheets with his head bobbing between her thighs. 

Oops. 

And after that, well – she's single and horny, and sex doesn't mean feelings, right? Sure, it almost always has for her, sure he has a nice smile and an even nicer bod and he can play guitar, but he's also a _midwife_ who believes in acupuncture over epidurals. So there's no risk of her doing something crazy like falling in love with him or anything.

Win win. 

*  
It's monday morning, exactly a month since her and Brendan started fucking, not that Mindy's counting. The sky is blue, birds are chirping, Mindy spent last night getting drunk with Brendan and yes, it's possible that they decided to play boardgames instead of fucking and ending up rage-making out over the Monopoly board because Brendan was hogging all the property, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, it's a good day. 

Mindy has been making finger-guns at everyone she crosses since the first floor when Brendan catches her in the act. Mindy smiles, but it's totally not about him. He's only, like, part of the environment. 

"Mindy," he says, raising a stupid eyebrow. 

"DesLaurier," Mindy says. She does not make finger guns at him. He doesn't deserve them. (She does call him by his first name sometimes, though, instead of just "Ugh", but that's because it's easier for sex.)

Brendan smirks at her, unscrewing the top of his thermos bottle. It's very unsexy. "Are we still on for tonight?" he asks, as though booty calls are something people discuss in public. (Okay, granted, they're not in public strictly speaking, but they _could be_ , is the point.)

"Yes," she hisses. Or at least, she means to hiss, but it ends up sounding more like a purr. Damn her traitorous vocal chords. Did they really have to choose now to take revenge for all the horrendous karaoke Mindy subjected them to? 

"Good," Brendan says calmly. He's always so _calm_ and composed, it's infuriating. God, does the ride to her floor usually take that long?

Just as she's thinking that, the doors open and Morgan's puppy face appears before her, screaming something about yet another dog that he shouldn't have been keeping in the office but that they can't kick out now because 'he's going to get homesick, Doctor L'. By the time Mindy turns around, the elevator is long gone.

Not that she cares. (No, really, she doesn't. She knows from experience that anticipation will make tonight better.)

*

It shouldn't blindside her, but it does – story of her life, really. 

It's not like she hasn't _thought_ about doing the dating thing with Brendan – she has, several times, and all those times she's rejected it because Brendan might be occasionally sweet and really talented with his fingers, he's also a dick. _And_ he's the one who said he wasn't "a hundred percent sold on the whole dating thing as a concept," which is jerk for 'I just want to bone you, not hold hands'. 

So, yeah, no dating Brendan. Good. Great. She's totally fine with that.

And _then_ the asshole comes up to her while she's having lunch – a fattening, healthy burger with extra fries – and says, "Go on a date with me."

Upon which Mindy proceeds to choke on her burger, while Brendan watches her placidly. He does get a bit alarmed at some point and start slapping her back. Mindy successfully spits out the chewed bit of burger that was stuck in her throat. 

"What?" she rasps, her eyes welled with tears. Yeah, this is so romantic. 

Brendan blinks. "I think we should go on a date," he repeats. "It makes sense."

Mindy thinks about it for a second as she focuses on regulating her breathing. In, out, God, Brendan DesLaurier wants to go on a date with her. 

Eventually she sighs as deeply as she can, tries to smother her nascent smile, and looks up at him. He looks almost nervous, ha. "Does it have to be vegan?"

"Deal-breaker," he deadpans, but there's no mistaking the quirk of his lips. 

Well. Maybe he's not so bad after all.


End file.
